


our home and hearth

by vannral



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Banter, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: Years after their adventures, Fjord and Caleb reflect on a bit how far they've come.





	our home and hearth

**Author's Note:**

> This is SO SAPPY and self-indulgent, oooh my god. I was so done with angst and tension and I was like NOPE, happiness right now, thanks. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this.

     “Hey, darlin’...hey. Wake up,” a familiar, deep voice murmurs somewhere near Caleb’s right ear, and he shifts under the warm blankets.

     “Mmh. The house better be burning down, I do _not_ want to be awake right now.”

Fjord chuckles, and reaches to tug a strand of hair behind Caleb’s ear. “Oh, I know, but that’s not happenin’, sorry.”

     “Why am I awake, then?” Caleb grumbles against his pillow, stubbornly refusing to open his eyes. He figures it can’t be anything serious because Fjord sounds relatively calm.

Fjord leans in to press a firm, but gentle kiss on Caleb’s spine, and a pleasant shiver goes through his body.

     “Sorry for disturbin’ your beauty sleep, but I brought you breakfast.”

 _That_ makes Caleb pause.

His eyes snap wide open, and he turns his head to look at Fjord. The half-orc meets his wide gaze with an amused expression, and sure enough, there is a tray with toast, bacon and eggs and a cup of tea.

Lemongrass with honey.

_Oh, this man definitely knows Caleb._

     “What’s this?” he asks, now definitely more awake and sits up.

     “I can’t spoil my partner, ‘s that what you mean?” Fjord asks innocently and chuckles when Caleb shoots him a suspicious look. 

     “No, you _can,_ that is not the point - why?” He runs a mental list in his head while nibbling on a piece of bacon. It’s not his birthday, it’s not their anniversary, it’s -

Then it hits him.

     “Bingo, there you are,” Fjord says and sounds absolutely amused. “Wanna share your thoughts, hon?”

Caleb swallows, his eyes impossibly wide. “You - “ Suddenly he feels shy, _bashful;_ rosy pink hue spreads on his cheeks. “Oh, I _hate_ you.”

     “Oh, do you?” Fjord asks, enjoying the situation. “Well, that’s mighty unfortunate, darlin’, ‘cause last time I checked, you sleep next to me.” He sits next to Caleb and grabs the nape of Caleb’s neck with his rough palm, pressing his thumb gently into the warm skin.

Caleb hums in contentment and leans into touch.

     “It has really been another year here?” he murmurs.

     “Yep, reckon so. How you feel ‘bout that?”

Caleb smiles. It’s a real one, shining and _happy._ Fjord thinks he should’ve been used to it already after so many years, but no, his heart still flutters and skips a beat. Everytime it still seems like a rare treasure.

     “Oh, I _reckon_ I’m quite proud of us,” Caleb replies and turns so he can rest his forehead against Fjord’s. “Routine, you know.”

     “Ain’t bad, you know. Routine. Simplicity. Calm.”

     “I know. And I’m grateful for it, every single day.” Then Caleb holds out a slice of bacon for Fjord and sips his tea. “Thank you, it’s perfect.”

     “Oh, yeah, well, it better damn well be, it’s taken four years to get it all perfect ‘n drinkable,” Fjord grumbles playfully.

     “And every time I do thank you, because it _is_ that good, _Schatz,”_ Caleb replies calmly and presses a kiss on Fjord’s mouth.

Fjord kisses back, and the kiss drags on, becomes slow and hot, tongues meeting on the middle with lazy strokes. It tastes of honey and tea. Fjord makes a rough growl in the back of his throat, nips Caleb’s bottom lip before pulling back.

     “You gotta eat, you’re still too skinny”, he grunts.

     “At this point, I don’t think it is going to change, to be fair.”

     “ _Sassy._ Nah, seriously though _,_ we talked ‘bout this, you eat like a goddamn _sparrow.”_

Caleb snorts a laugh, but eats dutifully his breakfast - here and there handing Fjord some bacon - and leans against the pillows, sipping carefully his tea.

     “Thank you, _Liebling,”_ he says, his blue eyes warm and so, _so_ affectionate. “That was - that was very kind of you.”

He still has that impeccable ability to fluster Fjord, and this time is no different. “Yeah, well, I like to spoil you.”

     “Oh, I have noticed that.” Caleb reaches out and scratches absent-mindedly Fjord behind the ear; it’s a simple touch, simple _intimacy_ between them. Fjord leans against the touch, turns his head just so he can press a light kiss on Caleb’s palm. “Thank you.”

     “You already said that,” Fjord murmurs. “‘n you’re welcome.”

     “Any plans today?”

     “We have that one scholar comin’ to visit. About in - five hours or so, I think.” 

     “I meant besides that.”

     “‘Course you did. Hmm - nah, I gotta pick up the sword from the blacksmith, but ‘s not in any hurry, other than that, I think we’re free. Why, d’you have somethin’ in mind there?”

Caleb doesn’t answer, but places his legs on Fjord’s lap, and without missing a beat, Fjord massages comforting circles on his ankle.

     “Y’know, they wonder what we are - “

     “ - because _labels_ are everything in towns like these, gods forbid - “

Fjord grins, his fangs showing. “Think this all leanin’ on me, askin’ me to give you a boost, standin’ on my shoulders, kinda seems like furniture - I can go on...”  

     “Well, you _are_ rather comfortable. No, that’s a lie, too much muscle.”

     “Sittin’ on my lap... that’s one of my favourites... ‘n hey now, you haven’t complained.”

     “It wasn’t a complain.”

Caleb puts the cup on the nightstand and moves to straddle Fjord’s lap, linking his hands behind Fjord’s neck.

     “Well, hello there, handsome. Anythin’ I can help ya with?” Fjord rumbles, his amber eyes hooded and glimmering with humour.

     “Jokes aside - not funny, by the way - I do take offense, I haven’t put years into this just to call you _furniture,_ that is untrue and also rude, _”_ Caleb tells him matter-of-factly, but Fjord can see a smile tugging his lips.

     “Yeah? What would ya call me, then, huh? Let’s hear it.”

     “ _No,_ let’s hear _you_ say it, you were so proud to say it - “ Caleb grins, resting his forehead against Fjord’s.

Now, the half-orc’s gaze darkens with _hunger,_ with unrestrained passion, _love_. “My partner.”

Caleb hums again, shivering at that, that _possessive_ note that makes his toes curl in the best way possible, and it doesn’t escape Fjord - very few things concerning Caleb do.

     “Yours,” he agrees.  

_I am yours and you are mine._

Equals.

_Partners, companions, marriage without paperwork and ceremonies._

Fjord nuzzles the long expanse of Caleb’s throat and bites lightly the pale skin there - just a playful nip, nothing like love bites, like _the marking._ Caleb runs his fingers absent mindedly on Fjord’s shoulder.

Fjord’s skin doesn’t smell like sea water anymore - hasn’t in years, after he was released from his pact. Caleb sometimes gets chills remembering it - it was a gruelling, gut-wrenching journey to get here; they yelled their voices hoarse, they cried in desperation, gritted their teeth and forced each other to be completely honest.

_Bare. Nothing left in secrecy. No lies, no half-truths, just -_

_All or nothing._

Then it got worse.

The dark entity under dark waves, whispering filthy and horrifying demands in Fjord’s ear, eating and soaking in his horror, his fear, his anxiety, clawing and devouring his emotions.

Caleb remembers holding Fjord in his arms, gently carding his fingers through the half-orc’s hair as he trembled during terrifying nightmares _that weren’t even nightmares_. Just - just _visits._

_From it._

     ”I don’t know how to stop it,” Fjord growled once upon a time, his voice choked. ”I don’t know what it wants, I don’t _know_ what it wants _me_ to do - ‘n it scares the _shit out of me,_ Caleb - ”

     ”I know, I know,” Caleb remembers murmuring back, ”we will figure it out, we will _stop_ this, it will be all right.”

     ”‘m so fuckin’ scared I’ll hurt ya - ”

     ”We will _deal_ with it when we get there. One step at a time, _Liebling.”_

And Caleb remembers Fjord kissing him, it was all teeth and tongue, despair and raw _terror._ He tasted sea water and ale and _Fjord,_ purely beneath it all.

Suddenly Caleb feels a brush of fingers touching his chin.

     ”Hey. _Hey._ Easy,” a familiar, deep voice drags him out of the memories, and Caleb startles, resuming _in_ the present. Fjord keeps an eye on his expression, gauging and careful. ”What’s wrong?” he asks gently.

Caleb shakes his head and crosses his fingers in Fjord’s nape. ”Nothing. Everything is fine. I am glad you are here.”

Fjord grins, his eyes’ laughter lines crinkling. ”Well, look at you, ya goddamn smooth-talker. You’re not just sayin’ that ‘cause I make perfect tea, are ya?”

     ”Well, I am not the one to lie, it is very good,” Caleb agrees smiling and leans to rest his forehead against Fjord’s. _”Ich liebe Dich.”_

Fjord’s eyes darken and then, he kisses Caleb like he can’t help himself - giving his all, heart and soul _into_ this, and what a gift it is. It is easier to be open and honest when threats, chaos and nightmare don’t hang above them anymore.

Caleb grins against Fjord’s mouth and pats him on the shoulder.

     ”Come on, we _do_ have to get up - ”

     ”Oh, what’s this _we_ business now, darlin’, you were the one snoozin’.”

     ”Details, details. That is not important.”

Fjord pecks a light kiss on Caleb’s temple. ”Love you too. See ya downstairs,” he rumbles, ruffles Caleb’s hair, his fingers pressing gently into his scalp and after taking the tray, leaves their bedroom.

Caleb stretches; his body feels sore after last night’s activities, a delicious burn in his muscles, gathering in his spine like hot water.

In the bathroom, he examines himself in the mirror; his pale skin is decorated with bitemarks and hickeys, and he hums, rather pleased with it all.

Fjord is especially fond of it all (after the initial hesitation and embarrassment, but after assuring him that it is more than all right, Fjord hasn’t held back.), and personally Caleb finds it very alluring.

He washes quickly, dresses and follows Fjord downstairs. Frumpkin appears from the living room and presses against Caleb’s leg, nuzzling.

     ”Oh, good morning, little one,” Caleb murmurs and pats his glossy fur.

He remembers when they bought the house. It was a little beaten-up and rickety, a house that could very well include a ghost or two, but they bought it, fixed and reconstructed, painted and cleaned it.

They needed it just as much as the house needed _them_ to do it.

After all that happened; all the battles, all the stress, trauma, nightmares and bone-deep _exhaustion,_ it felt good to do something so ordinary. 

Now it’s home.

 _Their_ home, his and Fjord’s. A place that belongs just the two of them.

(of course there is the guestroom, with some of Nott’s collection of sticks, Jester’s hand-made embroidered blanket, Beau’s spare clothes just in case, a weapon or two that belong to Yasha and Mollymauk’s paints. _When they decide to drop by.)_

Caleb’s books, scrolls and alchemic notes are scattered in the living room, the scent of ink and old paper hangs in the air, Fjord’s own documents from the Academy, maps and navigation charts, souveniers from their journeys.

Alchemic ingredients are in order by a corner that functions as Caleb’s workshop; pouches of ground herbs, minerals, chalk, dark little bottles full of carefully labled contents, scrawls of notes and recipes, underlined and scribbled over to fix mistakes or make improvements.

 _It’s home._ Cosy and _theirs._

 It’s a rather lovely morning, he thinks. The hastening winter has brought a chilly taste in the air, and the sun makes the hills bathe in golden glow. _We’ll need more wood ..._ he muses as Frumpkin leaps on his shoulders, rubbing his head against Caleb’s cheek.

_KNOCK KNOCK_

Reflexively, Caleb tenses. Just an instinct - a habit he can’t _quite_ shake. Fjord’s rummaging nearby stops as well.

_It’s a hard habit to break._

Caleb goes to the door.

A young woman stands on their porch, looking red-cheeked and radiant. The woodcarver’s oldest daughter. Hannah. “Good morning, Mr. Widogast!” she chirps.

     “ _Guten Morgen_ ,” Caleb replies slowly. 

Hannah blinks, a little startled. “Oh, _fuck,_ it’s not the third day, is it? It’s not?”

     “No, it is not.”

She groans. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Mr. Widogast, I got the dates messed up - but do you think you got it ready by any chance anyway?”

     “As it happens, I do. I finished it early. Do come in, it is fuc - “ he clears his throat uncomfortably, “ - it is freezing out there.”

She seems to think his slip is hilarious. “I’ve heard way worse, Mr. Widogast, don’t worry,” she snickers. “It’s really cold already - oh, morning, Mr. Fjord!”

Fjord who peeks out of the kitchen, sees that it’s her and flashes a warm grin at her. “Likewise, Hannah. Your Pops doin’ any better?”

     “A bit, I think, but the old grump’s putting on a brave face - which is _stupid -_ this is really gonna help him, though,” she adds as Caleb returns from his workshop with a small parcel. “That’s it?”

     “Mmh. Read the instructions carefully - two drops, no more, no less.”

     “I got it, thank you! Here, your payment!”

She shoves a small pouch of coins to him. Something curls in him, just the base of his skull, _an old greed, once when he was starving and desperate,_ but now, his urge to check and count, _every coin, one by one,_ has faded.

He smiles back, and there is no worry. “Thank you.”

She rearranges her scarf on her mouth and puts the parcel in her pocket. “Have a great day, you two!” she says and with a wave, she leaves.

Fjord approaches Caleb and wraps his arms around Caleb’s waist loosely as a safe weight.

     “Workin’ hard already, huh?”

     “Simple alchemy, nothing too complicated, I had it done already.”

     “They know us, dunno what else to say.”

     “I know.”

     “So much for keepin’ low profile, y’know. Ain’t what we agreed on once upon a time, yeah?”

     “This is _different,_ and - this is good. _Ja._ Do not look so smug, I can _feel_ that.”

Fjord chuckles, and Caleb can feel it rumbling through him as a comforting baritone. “Sorry. Are you happy, Caleb?”

Caleb frowns, surprised an turns in Fjord’s arms to scowl at him. “I am. I know it’s a surprise, but... I am. More than - more than I thought I would ever be.”

Fjord doesn’t quite _shudder,_ but he can’t help himself; the next kiss is full of relief, something like _despair,_ but not really. _Comfort, relief, familiarity._

     “And you?” Caleb asks quietly, resting his hands on Fjord’s chest.

     “Always. Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else than here.”

They grin at each other, like sharing an inside joke.

     “Y’know Jester’s gonna bust in here when we least expect it, right?”

     ”I’m almost counting days until she thinks it’s not predictable anymore. At least she’s not going to use Thaumaturgy to pick apples like last time, too cold for that.”

     ”I think she’d take it as a challenge, darlin’.”

     “I’ll put a fucking force field around that thing.”

     “Still like a red flag, just sayin’.”

     “ _Scheiße.”_

     ”Yep. But we’ll deal with it when the time comes. C’mon. Wanna come with me to the blacksmith?”

     “Yes, please. It’s cold outside, your scarf is on the chair.”

     “Thanks, hon.”

It’s a simple life, but they don’t need anything else after such trials and pains.

+

**Author's Note:**

> Once again feedback's more than welcome, tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, grammar mistakes (not a native speaker, i wanna keep learning!) :D  
> Thank you for reading!


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